


Vagabonds

by TunaCoffee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fluff, M/M, halloween party, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TunaCoffee/pseuds/TunaCoffee
Summary: Some things will always stay the same.A collection of McGenji prompt fills from twitter and discord.(previously Dusty n' Rusty because I desperately needed a better title)





	1. Costumes

**Author's Note:**

> Ch 1 prompt was from Wisty, who asked for "Couples Costumes"

It’s late and the party has died down. Reinhardt is passed out on the sofa with a punch bowl for a hat, and Angela has driven Torbjorn and Ana home. Morrison and Reyes are at the kitchen counter, idle conversation slurred from the spiked punch. McCree is in the recliner flipping through Halloween specials.

Having so much of the team together at once - for something outside of work - was a rare event. It was nice. It would’ve been nicer if Genji had been there, McCree thought, clicking past another re-run of The Reapening. His eyes flick over to the digital clock display above the fireplace - 4:35 a.m. Thinking of Genji makes his stomach twist (not entirely unpleasantly) and he reaches for his phone.

He gets up and heads for the balcony. Morrison raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Just steppin’ out for a smoke, Cap.”

Door closed behind him, he lights a cigarette and flips through his contacts. He lingers over Genji’s name. He shouldn’t call him while he’s in the field. He looks over his shoulder through the sliding glass door - Reyes is laughing at something Morrison has said. He presses dial.

It rings four times before Genji picks up.

“Jesse?”

“Hey, uh… hey.”

Genji sounds cautious, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, s’all fine. I, um, just… wanted to check in. How’s Seoul?”

Genji is quiet for only a moment, “Fine. We have just set up at the safe house here, so we’re turning in early for the night. But it’s late for you, isn’t it?”

McCree manages an awkward croak of a laugh, as if he wasn’t itching all over to talk to Genji at 4 in the morning.

“Nah, it ain’t late till the Commander passes out.”

“Ah, you are working with the Commander?”

“I wouldn’t say working. I’m at Reinhardt’s party,” McCree tests the waters, “well, not much of a party without you around.”

Genji lets out a small _oh_ , and his voice floods with intrigue, “I had forgotten the date! I wanted to be there. Did you wear a costume?”

McCree laughs, finally relaxing into the conversation, “Yeah, you remember that vampire movie I showed you a few weeks back?”

“Van Halen?”

“Helsing.”

“Halen, Helsing. I think you would look good in the hat. Will you send me a picture?”

McCree feels his face flushing, “Shit, right now?”

“Yes. I want to see you.”

They pause.

“Your costume, I mean. I want to see your costume.”

“Hang on.”

McCree opens his phone gallery, filled mostly with awkwardly framed pictures of safe houses and skylines, and three drunken snapshots from the night. He sends Genji a blurred photo of him and Ana with her stuffed parrot mounted on his hat. Genji laughs when it loads,

“The bird is a nice touch!”

“Well, ya know, the Captain insisted.”

“It’s a good costume, but I think… if you want to look authentic, next time you should have a vampire with you.”

McCree laughs, “you wouldn’t happen to be offerin’ for next year, would you?”

Genji’s words soften, “I think I would like to, yes.”

“I’d, uh… I’d like that too.”


	2. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Wisty Prompt, who asked for hand holding and fluff.

“If you wanna ask, just ask.”

Genji snapped his eyes up to meet McCree’s, his visor concealing the wave of embarrassment rushing across his face at having been caught staring.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to-”

“S’alright. It’s been, shit, it’s been eight years since we last saw each other?” McCree flexed the fingers on his mechanical arm, “it’s been seven they soldered this thing on.”

He held out his palm for the other man to touch. They were on the rec room sofa with the lights turned low for a movie of Lena’s choosing, a scattering of agents former and newly recruited tuned into the flashing of the television set. Genji gave the others a furtive glance (no one seemed to have noticed their quiet conversation in the back) before reaching over to take McCree’s hand. He turned the palm upwards and ran his thumb over the faded metal from the wrist to the base of the fingers, and then back down the interlocking metal panels of his forearm. The construction was crude, but efficient, it reminded Genji of the temporary prosthetics he had been fitted with at the very beginning. No synthetic muscle or skin, nowhere to wire in synthetic nerve endings or pressure nodes. No feeling.

“How did it happen?” Genji asked, releasing his grip.

McCree settled back into watching the movie without really watching, “Op went to shit. Structural collapse that I had the happy fortune of being in the middle of,” he smirked, “least that’s what the mission report said. I don’t remember shit.”

Something in his face read dishonest, and Genji felt a rush of panic and guilt storm through his mind. He calmed it to a murmur with a deep breath and practiced patience.

“I’m sorry I was not there for you.”

The tremor in his voice pulled McCree’s gaze back onto him, “Ain’t nothing you could’ve done about it.” He fixed Genji with a hard glance up and down before cautiously taking his hand in his own and lacing their fingers together, hard metal against soft synthetic fibre, resting in the space between them.

Genji’s words slipped out from a place of regret and personal experience, “you can’t _feel_ it.”

“Sure I can,” he gave Genji’s hand a gentle squeeze, “I _remember_ what it feels like, an’ our fingers fit together just the same as before.”


End file.
